Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [7]
Swans bobbed on the waves near a green islet and boatmen rowed their wherries between the north and the south banks of the river. Several boats followed the queen’s barge, from which the sound of a lute drifted back to us.
Emme pointed out the Inns of Court where men studied the law, the abbey of the Blackfriars, the spires of St. Paul’s Cathedral, and the palaces where the queen’s favorite noblemen lived. The barge bumped against a jetty and we clambered out beneath the London Bridge, a wide and noisy thoroughfare crowded with houses and shops. The current churned through its many arches, making it dangerous for the barges to pass, so we reboarded on the other side and resumed our journey. Soon I heard the cries of fishmongers and smelled their wares.
“Billingsgate,” Emme informed me, wrinkling her nose.
We glided by a harbor crowded with all manner of vessels, from fishing wherries to tall-masted sea ships.
“By damn, that’s Walter Ralegh’s ship, the Roebuck!” exclaimed Thomas Graham, dumping Anne from his lap in order to peer out the window. “Laden with Spanish treasure, I’ll be sworn. I’d give my eyeteeth for a share of that gold!”
“And I would not love you if you had such gaps in your grin,” said Anne, frowning.
“Who is Walter Ralegh?” I asked Emme.
“Why, have you not seen him at court? He is unmistakable—tall and quite proud,” she said.
I shook my head. There had been little opportunity to observe the gentlemen courtiers, let alone learn their names.
“The queen sent him to Ireland to put down the rebels, then to the Netherlands when she sent Monsieur Frenchman away. Now he profits from … shipping,” Emme explained with raised eyebrows.
“I’ve heard his dream is to colonize the New World,” said Graham. “I’d sail with him. What a feat that would be!”
“Every young man fancies himself an adventurer,” grumbled Leicester.
“I do love to gaze on his finely turned legs,” sighed Anne.
“But his sights are set only on the queen,” said Veronica. “Just like my Lord Leicester’s.” And she tapped him with her fan, pouting.
“If this Walter Ralegh went to the Netherlands, he must have known my father,” I said to Emme, and she touched my arm in sympathy.
The sound of a fanfare meant that the queen had reached her destination. A moment later our barge bumped into the wharf and we disembarked, climbing the steps to the street. As soon as I saw the high stone wall with its bastions and battlements and the tall keep with its four turrets, I knew we had arrived at the famed and feared Tower of London.
My father had told me many stories about the Tower, where the kings of England had once lived and where traitors were now kept. Elizabeth’s mother, Anne Boleyn, had been beheaded here after being accused of adultery by her husband, King Henry. Yet look how Leicester and Veronica carried on! Did no one remember the past? Surely the queen could not forget. As a young girl, she had been imprisoned here by her sister, Queen Mary, a Catholic who feared that Elizabeth was plotting to overthrow her.
“But why would our mistress come here?” I wondered aloud. “The Tower must hold terrible memories for her.”
Graham, in a giddy mood, replied, “Why, to visit the Royal Mint and hear how well each coin flatters her. Such praise may help to fill my flattened purse.”
“Thomas, you are incorrigible,” said Anne fondly. “But I think it is to see the menagerie.”
I nodded, having no idea what she meant.
As we neared the Tower I stared up at the forbidding wall with its narrow slits. From the squared battlements protruded tall spikes topped with what looked like bundles of blackened rags. I squinted in order to see better.
“Is this the menagerie?” I asked, imitating Anne’s accent.
She burst out laughing. “Yes, it is a menagerie—of criminals and traitors! Thomas, do you hear how witty this new maid is?”
“They are heads, Catherine!” Emme hissed. “Some of them have been up there for years.”
As I stared, the raglike bundles resolved themselves into skulls with torn flesh like strips of stiff leather. Their white teeth shone in grimaces.